The Best Little Whorehouse On Vulcan
by Morwen Tindomerel
Summary: The duel with Kirk shakes Spock out of his blood fever but doesn't solve his problem. His sister and cousin are forced to take him in hand and see he does what must be done.
1. Chapter 1

"This scandal has brought shame upon our House and Clan." T'Pau said dispassionately. She sat straight backed and regal in her nacre and gold embellished armchair, a cup of translucent sele'ji ware cradled in the curve of her left hand.

Spock, cross-legged on a low bench on the other side of the tea table bowed his head. "I deeply regret -"

T'Pau cut him off. "The fault does not lie entirely with you, Nephew, nor with T'Pring either. I officiated at your bonding, I sensed the lack of sympathy between you but did nothing." a faint sigh escaped the matriarch. "As First Lady of our House and an Elder Mother of our Clan I had the right to annul the bond even against your father and mother's wishes. I should have done so but did not. I was swayed by expediency and this is the result."

Spock took a sip of tea as he fought down a surge of emotion. For T'Pau to accept even part of the blame for this fiasco was a magnanimity he did not deserve.

She continued: "You and I, T'Pring, her parents and yours all rightfully share in the shame of what has happened. However I deeply regret your t'hy'la James Kirk was drawn into the affair. I rejoice in his survival."

"As do I." said Spock, not quite managing to keep the emotion from his voice.

T'Pau pretended not to notice. "You chose your brother-friends well, Nephew, they are not only loyal but clever. Our House gains honor through such affines."

Spock almost blinked. Not only had his Elder Aunt taken to herself blame for the scandal he had brought upon their House but now she had reversed herself and accepted Kirk and McCoy into the traditional bond of 'brother-friends' not only to Spock himself but to the whole House of Surak.

"We will not speak of this matter again." T'Pau took a final sip from her cup then laid it delicately down on the tray.

Spock placed his own beside it, rose, bowed and withdrew. T'Pau's apartments opened onto a court whose central terrace was landscaped into a sand garden of unusual complexity, said to have been designed by Surak himself for his First Wife. Spock's youngest sister sat in meditation posture on one of the seats of contemplation. She rose and came towards him.

T'Jess bore a striking resemblance to Amanda, her blood aunt as well as adoptive mother, with the same delicate features and level blue eyes. Her brown hair fell in flowing ringlets down her back and the winged circlet of a priestess rested upon her brow. Her simple dark gown was adorned with the scarlet stole and broad green and gold sash of a Servant of T'Hat, the Vulcan goddess of birth, passion and the life force.

"I must speak with you, Brother, walk with me."

He followed her, a little reluctantly, into the high walled network of passages running between the courts that made up the Homeplace of Surak. He needed time alone for meditation, to set his mind in order after the soul shaking events of these last days, but to refuse his sister's request would have been discourteous in the extreme.

After several minutes they entered the garden of the maze. T'Jess led him beneath the tiled gate into a stone hedged passage shaded by the interwoven boughs of trees. After two turns she stopped and gently touched one of the stone slabs. It turned on a hidden pivot and they passed through into a grassy clearing all but filled by a small lake planted with water reeds and lilies. Stepping stones led to a tiny open pavilion in its center, furnished with two low benches facing each other across a round table carved of pale chalcedony.

They seated themselves and T'Jess fixed him with a piercing blue gaze. "Your condition has been ameliorated but not resolved -" she began.

"It is not fitting we discuss such things!" Spock interrupted in acute embarrassment.

"I speak not as your sister but as a Priestess of T'Hat." she answered crisply. "As such the proper control of our unfortunate sexuality is my chief function. Now then, Brother, the madness has passed but the need has not. You must fulfill yourself. Have you a lover on the Enterprise?"

"Certainly not!"

Her eyebrows rose. "Indeed. That surprises me. I assumed you would prefer a fellow officer to such women as can be found in pleasure houses -"

Once again Spock interrupted. "Fraternization with a fellow officer would be most improper. Or with pleasure women. I was bonded."

"But not mated." T'Jess pointed out. "Naturally we assumed -" she broke off. "Spock! don't tell me you've been living celibate all these years?" the green rising in his face was all the answer she needed. "Are you mad, Brother, or merely self destructive?"

"The urges were manageable." me muttered, nearly inarticulate with embarrassment. "I thought - my human ancestry -"

"Humans are not asexual, Brother." his fully human sister interrupted acidly. "Granted we can live celibate but not easily. And biologically you are more Vulcan than human. You have been dangerously stupid, Spock, I will not allow you to continue to be so. You will not leave Vulcan until you have fulfilled yourself and your passions are back under control." he opened his mouth to protest and she cut him off. "My decision is not negotiable and do not think I cannot enforce it. Aunt T'Pau can and will prevent the Enterprise from leaving until I say you are ready to go!"

Spock swallowed hard and bowed his head struggling for control.

"His sister continued. "Marriage would be the ideal solution. Despite your appalling treatment of T'Pring and our current scandal there are many suitable women who would be glad to accept you as bondmate."

"No!" her eyebrows rose and he forced his voice under control. "My commitment to Starfleet makes it impossible for me to remain on Vulcan with a bondmate, nor could I take her aboard ship with me."

"Very well. In that case a temporary companion is indicated. I will have one of our unbonded kinsmen introduce you."

"That will not be necessary." Spock said hastily, unwilling to involve yet another person in his very private affairs.

"Of course it is." T'Jess said crisply. "You know perfectly well the better houses of assignation require new patrons to be introduced by old. Or do you prefer a common streetwalker?"

Spock blushed emerald. "Sister!"

"I thought not." she said calmly. "I will ask Sirak if he knows of a suitable place."

Spock retreated gratefully to the privacy of his quarters, the red pavilion in the Court of the Eighth Son. Passing between the bright red pillars of the veranda he entered the small, bare anteroom and pushed aside the crimson drape screening the door to the library. The walls were covered with pleated hangings in the same rich color. Center table, writing desk, arm chairs, couch and book racks were all lacquered a brilliant vermilion. Light flooded the room from the high, copper grilled clerestory and an alcove held a statue of Shanyel god of death and the dead, Spock's chosen patron, rough hewn from volcanic rock. Spock lit the small fire pot at the god's feet and sprinkled powdered incense on the coals.

His already intolerable inner turmoil had been substantially increased by his conversation with T'Jess. Folded down on the stone meditation slab, gazing up into the red eyes of the god Spock admitted to himself that that rather proved her point. No doubt his annoyingly uncontrollable emotions were directly due to his unfulfilled state. Yet he found himself dreading the necessary remedy with a totally irrational intensity.

It had been a mistake to delay his sexual initiation so many years, logically as well as emotionally, but he could not bring himself to mate with T'Pring and mating with another would have been unethical - though now he wished he had been less ethical and more expedient. The dissonance between them had made the thought of embracing his bondmate unacceptable to him but mating with a stranger, a woman paid for the service, seemed no less repugnant.

Other men did so, he reminded himself, even the most honorable. It was logical to take advantage of so necessary a service, and logical to provide it. His revulsion was illogical and no doubt a symptom of his abnormal condition. He would be calm and rational again once it was done - but oh, how he wished it was over and safely past!

As an unmarried daughter of the House T'Jess occupied an apartment in the Bower Court. She entered a small, exquisite furnished sitting room to curl up meditatively among the embroidered silk cushions adorning the a broad couch of dark, reddish ese-roh wood. A pair of delicately carved armchairs of the same wood faced each other across a tea table, its round top inset with a slab of fine etched green jadeite. A smaller table by the couch was decorated with gilt fretwork Scented smoke curled up from the antique bronze burner on a tall green-stone altar table against the opposite wall, wreathing a scroll painting of T'Hat in her green and scarlet regalia, flanked by her two le-matya and surrounded by a cloud of birds.

T'Jess' eyes focused on the serene, painted face. She sighed: "What am I to do with this brother of mine, goddess?" Spock had always been introverted, reserved and isolate to an unhealthy extreme even by Vulcan standards, but that he should take it to such self destructive levels was unbelievable. There were after all other Vulcans in Starfleet, he could have formed temporary liaisons with any number of partners without shame. Certainly no blame had attached to T'Pring for taking Stonn as a lover, logically she could have done nothing else and everybody knew it.

Granted all Vulcans were touchily reticent about sex, and for good reason. Outworlders often found the subject grounds for ribald humor but there was nothing funny about Vulcans' demanding sexuality as T'Jess, who spent her professional life smoothing over the trouble it caused, could well attest. Yet again she thanked the fates that had made her human and free of the drives that complicated her compatriots lives.

Spock had been thoroughly educated in the facts of life and trained in the disciplines of Velinahr, yet he had tried to avoid the question, hoping that his human ancestry would somehow render him immune. Such illogical behavior seemed out of character suggesting she did not understand her only brother as well as she should.

But priestess of T'Hat though she was it truly was not appropriate for her to counsel her own brother in such matters. She would enlist Sirak's aid. Not only was he unbonded and so well acquainted with the rituals and proprieties of establishing temporary liaisons, but his was an eminently logical mind, perhaps the most logical she had ever encountered, allowing him to speak frankly about matters most Vulcans found difficult to articulate.

T'Jess frowned. But what about after Spock left Vulcan? What was to keep him from working himself into a similar state in another few years? Somebody aboard the Enterprise would have to be fully informed of the biological facts, somebody in a position to guide and counsel Spock. One of his two t'hy'la was the logical choice, Captain Kirk or Doctor McCoy? The latter she decided after several moments consideration. Humans were not free of sexual reticence themselves but a medical doctor would be accustomed to dealing with intimate matters and so logically less likely to be embarrassed or to cause embarrassment by his own awkwardness.

Uncurling from among the cushions she opened the drawer of a side table taking out a compact communications device. She linked to Vulcan control. "This is T'Jess of D'Jeseru I wish to communicate with the Starship Enterprise currently in orbit."

"Yes, T'sai." a controller's voice answered. "Connecting."

The dark, lovely face of a human woman appeared on the tiny screen and a rich contralto said in terranglish: "Vulcan caller this is the Enterprise. Please state your business."

"I am T'Jess, sister of Commander Spock, I would like to speak to Doctor Leonard McCoy at his earliest convenience."

The woman's eyes widened visibly but she maintained her composure - just. Clearly Spock hadn't discussed his family with his fellow officers either! "One moment please." the word 'Holding' flashed green on the little screen for several minutes then were replaced by the pleasantly craggy features of a middle aged human male who wasn't bothering to hide his surprise.

"McCoy here, miss - uh -. "

"T'Jess." she said, didn't quite smile. "You couldn't pronounce the family name."

"Forgive me if I'm a bit dumb with shock, Miss T'Jess. Spock never mentioned he had a sister."

"That does not surprise me." she answered dryly. "My brother is famously uncommunicative."

"You can say that again!" Dr. McCoy said with feeling.

She nearly smiled again. "Doctor, how well acquainted are you with Vulcan sexual physiology?"

"Not at all." was the rather grim answer. "I've been trying to do some research but can't find anything authoritative on record, just unreliable anecdotes and some downright scurrilous tall tales."

T'Jess nodded. "As I expected. Seeing that you are Spock's doctor and his t'hy'la it is both proper and necessary that you should know more. The matter is somewhat complex and I would prefer not to discuss it over communicator. Would it be convenient for you, Doctor, to beam down tomorrow for a full discussion of the subject about the 4th hour Shi-Kahr time?"

McCoy looked off-screen, correlating that to ship-time. "Yes, that'll be fine. Would you like to give co-ordinates or should we just fix on your signal?"

"Signal please."

Note: 'Velinahr' was coined by Diane Carey but I am not using it in the sense she did. In my fic 'Velinahr' is the discipline of controlling the body, including the sexual urges, in contrast to 'Kohlinahr' the discipline of the mind.


	2. Chapter 2

"Spock?"

He started, head jerking up from the scroll he was failing to read, and stared blankly with green shot eyes at his visitor.

"I did knock." Sirak explained, "but got no answer." He folded his arms into the wide sleeves of his gray robe, lean, fine cut face serene and kind beneath its cap of close trimmed dark brown hair. Deep violet eyes, a rare color on Vulcan, considered his cousin. "Not sleeping?" Spock let his scroll snap closed, fighting down a wholly irrational surge of irritation. Sirak nodded as if that was all the answer he needed. "Oh yeah, you got it bad and that ain't good."

Spock's eyebrows threatened to vanish into his hair. "I beg your pardon?"

A smile glowed in those luminous eyes but didn't reach his mouth. "A human phrase that very accurately describes your condition." Sirak's voice gentled. "Which I remind you is all to familiar to me, indeed to all adult male Vulcans. We are cousins and age mates, Spock. There is no need to feel embarrassed before me."

Spock swallowed, eyes veering uncomfortably away. "I have not - I have never -" words failed him.

"Since your bond to T'Pring was not consumated I deduce this will be your first experience of sexual congress." Sirak said matter-of-factly, taking the armchair on the other side of the reading table. "It is unfortunate your initiation has been delayed so long. No doubt it has taken on an almost ominous significance after all this time."

"Yes." Spock agreed huskily, still unable to meet his cousin's eye.

"Your concern is not unwarranted," he continued in the same calm, practical tone, "the first time is significant and can set the tone of one's entire sexual life. It should be approached with respect and careful consideration. It was perhaps wise of you to avoid congress with T'Pring as that experience would undoubtedly have been most unsatisfactory for both of you."

That got Spock to look at him for the first time, in surprise. "You approve of my treatment of T'Pring?"

"It would have been better to face and resolve the difficulty rather than avoid it all these years," Sirak answered a little dryly, "but your instinct was basically sound. A union between the two of you would have been intolerable to both and no doubt led eventually to an even worse scandal then our current one." his eyebrows rose slightly. "T'Pring is a proud, accomplished, beautiful woman of dominant character, in many ways a very desirable mate - but not for you."

"I wish Stonn joy of her." Spock said, not bothering to hide his bitterness.

"He will have joy of her." Sirak said, quite gently. "They are perfectly suited, they will be happy. T'Pring did you a grave wrong, Spock, but you wronged her as well. Do not add to the error by nursing a grudge."

"That would be illogical." Spock answered, forcing himself to speak evenly. "Forgive me, Sirak, I am - emotional."

"Of course you are," Sirak said soothingly, "due to your condition. Fortunately that can be easily cured. I will make the necessary arrangements." he paused to consider his cousin again. "And you will accompany me so as to learn how it is done. But first we must make you presentable!"

It would of course be most improper to entertain a man in the women's bower - even a t'hy'la. Fortunately in addition to her apartment T'Jess had been given a studio, tucked away in a corner of the eastern garden, where she could write and meditate. She unlocked the gold lacquered door and entered a small, bare anteroom, a pale mauve silk curtain screened the circular sun door on her left. T'Jess lifted it and critically considered the room beyond.

'The Retreat of Elusive Fragrance' took its name from the sweet scent exhaled by the pale Ahl-d'san wood of the furnishings. These were few and simple with graceful, elegant lines; a square table with four high backed chairs in the center of the room, a low couch with mauve and yellow cushions against the back wall and a writing desk under the broad, latticed window opposite. Bookshelves covered the end wall and tall, lily shaped, stone lamps stood at the four corners of the room with a pair of silver candlesticks on the table and a third on the desk. A fresco of birds and flowering plants adorned the wall above the couch, its soft tints picked up by the patterned carpet on the tiled floor.

No, not in here. She decided, slid open the lattice doors and went out onto the pergola shaded veranda. Heavy masses of mauve and fuschia vismi't'ia blossoms dripped from the trellis overhead. A broad stream ran sparkling over smooth pebbles below winding through a small field of waving grasses. A stone footpath led from the steps at the right end of the veranda, following the loops and curves of the stream to a square pavilion on the edge of a small lily lake. Yes. That was the place to receive Dr. McCoy.

Sirak took Spock to training hall on the north side of the men's court. He slipped out of his robe, dropping it carelessly on one of the long wooden benches flanking the door and walked, clad only in thin white trousers, to a weapons rack taking down a pair of wooden practice lirpa and throwing one to Spock. "Let's work off a little of that frustration shall we?" he said, eyes glinting.

Spock caught the lirpa automatically and reflexively ducked the blow Sirak aimed at his head countering with a low, sweeping strike at his feet.

"Slow, Spock, slow." Sirak leapt lightly over the blow and made a thrust at his cousin's chest. Spock parried. "Are you going to make me do all the work?" Sirak demanded pressing forward with a feint and jab.

Something inside Spock snapped. "No!" he shouted and aimed a vicious slash at Sirak's throat.

Normally the cousins were about equally matched in skill but on this occasion Sirak's cooler head served him better than the irrational rage blinding Spock. Dodging, blocking, eluding he let his opponent wear himself out with his aggressive but not very controlled offensive.

Finally Spock dropped the blade of his lirpa and stood panting, running with sweat but feeling strangely refreshed.

Sirak also fell into neutral stance, almost smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Yes." his cousin admitted.

"Remember violent physical activity helps." a dry twist of the lips. "And so does a cold shower. Speaking of which..."

The cousins passed through a back door, crossed a small pebble and rock garden shaded by the large, rustling leaves of ana-anab trees to a bath house walled on three sides with fragrant, rough finished eni'p wood. The two rectangular soak pools were framed by polished logs of the same, and the fourth wall was open to the garden. Spock and Sirak showered in the black tiled stalls lining the back wall then stepped into the nearest pool for a good long soak.

The sun warmed water relaxed Spock. He floated, feeling almost at peace for the first time in many weeks. A vigorous massage loosened tension clenched muscles and added to his sense of well being. He felt almost himself again as, dressed in a borrowed robe, he settled into a chair in Sirak's large and rather bare private chamber for a cup of tea.

Sirak surveyed him, taking in the clear eyes, smooth shaven face and respectable dark red robe with its black sash and nodded approval. "Now that you are fit to be seen in public we can make the necessary arrangements. First we must engage a suite of rooms at a suitable house." he dialed up the prospectus page then slid the hand screen over to Spock. "Make your choice."

He looked helplessly at the display and Sirak sighed. "Come, Spock, surely it isn't that hard to pick a set of chambers that appeal to you."

"I do not - I have no grounds for comparison." he answered defensively.

Sirak sighed again. "We mustn't have you getting all wound up again." pulling the screen back he studied in a moment, made a few adjustments then handed it over. "I have used these chambers many times, always with excellent results. Do you approve?"

Spock looked blindly at the image, didn't bother to read the text. "I am sure they will be most satisfactory."

Sirak drained his cup and stood up. "Very well then, let us go."

"Go?" Spock echoed blankly, gestured to the link on the table. "Surely we can make any necessary arrangements -" trailed off as Sirak shook his head decisively.

"That would be a grave breech of courtesy. We are not ordering groceries but arranging for a night of pleasure. Personal inspection of the quarters and face to face negotiations are required by both tradition and propriety."

Spock grimaced. "Propriety seems an odd word to use in this connection."

"Perhaps." was the calm answer. "Nevertheless there are proprieties and conventions that must be followed to avoid offense. Now come."

The water pavilion in the garden of Elusive Fragrance was a simple, rustic structure. Four posts of twisted, knotted ess'kyr logs polished to a high gloss supported the wide eaves of the thatched roof. Screens woven of grass and reed shielded two sides leaving the pavilion open to the lily lake and to a view of the garden's little wood and mountain. T'Jess spread mats of fresh, sweet smelling grass on either side of the low stone table in the center of the pavilion and had carved wooden back and arm rests brought for her guest. She spent some time selecting just the right cups and plates finally settling on a set carved from pure green jade, paper thin and translucent, engraved with a delicate pattern of lilies and reeds.

Refreshments also had to be carefully chosen to suit a human palate. T'Jess herself liked almost all Vulcan foods, having been raised on them, but knew very well that most humans found many of the most favored traditional dishes unpleasantly bitter or sour. She also knew that the midday heat would be oppressive to a Terran despite the cool air rising from the lake and had a tall stone vase, packed with snow and sealed, brought from the cold stores and set beside the refreshment table.

She plucked three water lilies, two pink-white and one pale blue, broke off a twig of an asa-sia tree with its round copper green leaves and spray of vismi't'ia blossoms arranging them in a slender necked, ruffle lipped vase of rippling turquoise and gold glass. laid out the napkins of nubbly, cream colored linen and set a silver beaker of lou'ti liquor to chill in a trough of ice, then stepped back to study the over-all effect.

After a long, thoughtful consideration she decided she'd managed to strike just the right balance between ceremonious Vulcan etiquette and Terran informality. Dr. McCoy would not be discomfited or overawed nor could her kin criticize her for failing to show proper respect to a t'hy'la.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sirak exchanged formal compliments with the manager of the house of assignation. He was a stocky older man with smooth round face and a hint of a curl to his cropped gray hair. Spock hovered in the middle distance, miserably ill at ease. The house consisted of a two story main building separated from the street by a paved court, a second inner gate and a fine flower garden. The manager's office was in a low wing on the eastern side of the garden and furnished in a far richer and more sensual style than Spock was accustomed to. It made him uncomfortable. **

"**Spock," Sirak said sharply, demanding his attention. **

**Reluctantly obedient he took one of the low, deeply cushioned chairs at the marble topped table. The manager and Sirak continued to trade courteous nothings over the ritual tea. Spock ignored them, distracted by the physical responses aroused by the softly rounded shapes of chairs, tables and couch. The warm, silken tactility of the cushions, the sensual blues of brocaded draperies and deep, soft carpet, the musky odor of the smoke spiraling lazily from the curvaceous porcelain incense burner. He swallowed and struggled for control. (1)**

"**You didn't hear a word we said, did you?" Sirak asked wryly as they passed out the street gate. Spock blushed green. His cousin sighed. "You are in a state aren't you? Do try to be coherent when we talk to the adepts."**

**Spock's eyes widened in something like horror. "Talk to them?"**

"**Yes, Spock, talk. Velinahru chose their partners you know, and very few are attracted by inane babbling or glazed silence!"**

**-----**

**A glittering column of light turned into a wiry, mature man in Starfleet blue. T'Jess descended the veranda steps to offer her hand Terran fashion. "How do you do, Doctor?"**

**He recovered from his surprise and shook it. "Very well thank you. You're Spock's sister?" **

**She didn't exactly smile. "By Vulcan law yes, by blood not quite. Your eyes do not deceive you, Doctor, I am biologically human." **

**One eyebrow went up, an expression T'Jess suspected he'd gotten from Spock. "Only biologically?"**

**She nodded. "I have been raised as a Vulcan." She led the way to the pavilion waving McCoy to the seat opposite. He hesitated, and remembering Terran etiquette, she sat first. He followed suit a little awkwardly. "The birthmother of my sister and myself was twin sister to Spock's," she continued. "And his parents our guardians under Terran law. When our Human parents died we were adopted into House and Clan."**

"**So you're actually Spock's first cousin on the Human side," Dr. McCoy said, trying to get it straight.**

**T'Jess made another of her not-quite smiles. "I am Spock's sister," she corrected. "But our biological kinship is that of cousins germain, to use Human terminology." She poured the lou'ti liquor and took a delicate sip. McCoy cautiously followed suit and his eyes widened in appreciation.**

"**Not to sweet?" T'Jess asked. He shook his head and took a hearty second gulp. "The Vulcan palate prefers sour and bitter flavors," she continued. "Sugar is a pleasant stimulant, not unlike caffeine. Alcohol is an aphrodisiac and we avoid it, except under very specific circumstances."**

"**It can have that effect on Humans too," Doctor McCoy said, blotting his mouth with a napkin. "Speaking of which -"**

"**Yes," T'Jess agreed. "Time to get down to business. I regret the lack of authoritative information on Vulcan sexuality in Federation archives but it is a sensitive subject with us. Other species tend to find it humorous but to us it is no laughing matter."**

**McCoy nodded grimly. "Spock damn near died of it - begging your pardon for my language, miss." She nodded her forgiveness. "He said something about a seven year mating cycle?"**

**T'Jess shook her head. "A considerable oversimplification, but then he wasn't in any condition to give accurate information. The Vulcan sex drive is urgent and demanding, and responsible for much of the violence of our early history. There are various techniques for keeping it in check, the best of them being regular sexual congress with a bondmate. Celibacy is most emphatically not an option."**

"**But Spock -" McCoy broke off, eyebrows rising. "Oh. I see."**

"**Spock has been a damned fool!" T'Jess not quite smiled. "Pardon my language, doctor. There is indeed a seven year cycle of sorts; fertility and desire both peak at that time. If the mating urge has been frustrated for several such cycles it can indeed lead to 'pon farr' but a Vulcan employing suitable disciplines and enjoying regular sexual intercourse will not go mad. Indeed our civilization would not be possible if they did."**

**McCoy nodded. "Spock's version didn't make a whole lot of biological sense at that."**

"**Nothing Spock's done in this matter has made any kind of sense," T'Jess said grimly. "Vulcans have an unusually long latency period that ends in 'shi farr', the awakening madness, at approximately eighteen standard years. Spock and T'Pring should have consummated their bond at that time but he was in Starfleet Academy on Earth. He has since used his service as an excuse to avoid fulfilling his duty to his mate."**

**McCoy raised a hand. "Wait a minute. Are you saying that that poor girl has been waiting twenty odd years for her wedding night?"**

**This time T'Jess did smile, grimly. "That is exactly what I am saying."**

**McCoy winced. "No wonder she wanted Spock dead! But why drag Jim into it?" **

**T'Jess sighed. "That was not very honorable, or logical, and T'Pring now regrets it deeply. Her original intent was that Stonn should fight for her in the traditional fashion - but when the moment came she found could not face the possibility of losing him."**

**McCoy's face softened. "He must mean a lot to her."**

"**Yes. My brother may have played the fool but T'Pring didn't. When it became clear that Spock was not going to return in anything like a reasonable time she took a companion - a lover in Earth terms."**

"**Since celibacy is not an option."**

"**Not if one values one's sanity," T'Jess agreed. "Her action was irregular but quite logical and brought no shame to her nor to Stonn. It began as a mere arrangement of convenience but as the years passed they formed an informal bond 'fell in love' as you would say."**

**McCoy gave her a quizzical look. "Love?"**

**She smiled again. "A true bondmating is defined as a spiritual as well as physical union and a mutual need for the other's company and presence. If that's not love, doctor, what is?" The smile vanished. "Spock and T'Pring's bonding was troubled from the beginning. Despite sincere efforts on both their parts there was never any true sharing of mind and spirit between them. It is highly regrettable that the arrangement was not quietly dissolved long before this crisis but Spock and our elders lacked the necessary moral courage and T'Pring's only option was the one she took." **

**-----**

**Spock looked down at the pale green liquid in his cup as if it was cyanide rather than wine watered down to the merest flavor. The last thing he required was an aphrodisiac. The decor of the wine parlor, very similar to that of the house manager's office, already had him on edge - as did the presence of the women.**

**There were five of them, clad in gauzy robes, and the curves of bare napes beneath heavy coils of hair and occasional glimpse of a small, bare foot had Spock quivering in response. It was all extremely unsettling and unpleasant. He looked desperately at Sirak.**

**His cousin sat across the room, sharing couch and cup with an attractive Velinahru, easily capping her verses in a light play of double meanings and sly innuendo. He returned Spock's silent plea with a sharp look that was little short of a glare. **

**Spock touched the cup to his lips in courteous pretense before turning to the adept, patient and silent at his side, and blurted out the first thing that came into his addled head; "I see both table harp and drum chimes, are you the musician?"**

**The Velinahru's lips curved slightly, no doubt in relief. "It is part of our training. Do you play, S'chn T'gai? (2)."**

"**The lyre, though with small skill."**

**His companion accepted that as the polite lie that it was. "I will send for a lyre and we shall try each other's skill." **

**Glancing again at Sirak Spock could not understand why his cousin was holding one thumb up.**

**----**

"**- after engaging apartments at a House of Assignation Spock and our cousin will proceed to a Velinahru retreat to select and be selected by a temporary companion."**

**McCoy blinked. "That sounds uncommonly like prostitution, Miss T'Jess."**

**She shrugged. "Technically it is so, but without the connotations of immorality that taint the Human practice. Celibacy is not an option, doctor, and not all Vulcans are bondmated or contracted to consort or companion."**

"**Making cat-houses only logical." McCoy nodded, then started to correct himself, "I mean to say -"**

"**I understand you, doctor." **

**He gave her another quizzical look. "May I say, miss, that you seem to have a much better grasp of terranglish vernacular than your brother does."**

"**You may," she answered dryly. "Spock had the same opportunities to learn as I but was too proper to take them. He has always been too proper."**

**McCoy looked interested. "So, our Spock's a bit rigid even by Vulcan standards?"**

"**More than a bit," she said. **

**----**

"**Well that didn't go too badly," Sirak said judiciously to his cousin as they began the walk home. "For a while there I was afraid no one was going to offer for you. Music indeed has charms."**

"**I am unaccustomed to such occasions," Spock said defensively.**

"**True, but your social manner has always left something to be desired," Sirak shook his head. "And with a mother famed over all Vulcan for her charm too."**

**Spock blinked. "She is?"**

**That got him a look of disbelief. "My dear Spock! Can you possibly believe that any but a woman of uncommon charm and social ability could captivate your father, not to mention wind our elders securely around her little finger? Sarek owes much of his diplomatic success to his wife but you have obviously failed to profit by her instruction."**

"**So it would seem," was all Spock could find to say in reply.**

**----**

**1. In Vulcan aesthetics the cool colors have the connotations of passion, sensuality and violence that hot ones have for Humans. Reds and oranges on the other hand are regarded as peaceful and restful.**

**2. The style and form of courteous address appropriate for a Vulcan male of Spock's age and caste. T'sai, usually translated as 'my lady', is the female equivalent.**


End file.
